I met An'er when I was seventeen, let's call her that. She was also seventeen that year. If it weren't for the cigarette butt that popped out with her index finger and the heavy metal taste in her mouth, she must have been at that age. I have always had a strong aversion to cigarettes, but An'er is definitely an exception. Maybe the smoke rings she spit out are more special than others. If my memory She has not been completely eaten away. She is still a beautiful girl with a standard urban complexion. Her long hair is always messy after being accumulated for too long. I suggested that she cut it short. Maybe this is the only time she listened to my advice. To this day, I still think that she should be a boy. She should have said a few swear words from time to time. Because I have never talked to girls.
All I know is that her feelings about everything are black and white, and she seems to be much simpler than any of us. My right hand naturally rested on An'er's shadow. This may be the only time we hold hands.